


Leave Your Cores for the Lord to See

by Devilc



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-12
Updated: 2010-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-06 05:12:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years later Tim and Julie bump into each other again ... sparks fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave Your Cores for the Lord to See

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Forbidden Fruit](http://archiveofourown.org/works/50024)
> 
> The title is a reference to verse #15 [Dem Bones ](http://www.musicanet.org/robokopp/usa/dembones.htm), a little ditty about Adam, Eve, and the forbidden fruit.

Julie's browsing through some handmade soaps and lotions in a stall at the Pike Place Market when she hears a soft voice say, "Excuse me ... Julie? Julie Taylor?"

She glances up and blinks as she tries to place the face. "Uh ... yeah," she replies, stalling for time. He's a tall, well-built, drop-dead-gorgeous guy with short, wind-ruffled walnut brown hair, and striking amber-hazel eyes. "Oh my God, " the words tumble from her lips. "Tim? Tim _Riggins _?!"

He smiles and nods.

"What are you doing here?" They ask in unison and laugh.

"You first," he says.

"I got a degree in Social Work. I live in Shelton "

"Across the Sound." Julie thinks she hears a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Yeah." Inwardly she smiles, remembering how she once pronounced it the Pud-jet Sound. "I work for Mason County. Got the job about six months ago. Thought I'd come over here and play tourista for a day." Julie shakes her head and laughs again. "What a coincidence, running into somebody from Dillon here. You doing the tourist thing, too?"

"Nope," the stall's owner chimes in, "he's a regular, comes here every few weeks for more of my soap." She hands Tim a small, neatly wrapped bundle. He hands her a twenty.

"Sandalwood and sage," he explains, lifting the package to his nose and inhaling deeply. "It's the best."

_Oh. _ "You're a lot different from the Tim Riggins I remember in high school," Julie blurts before she can stop herself.

He smirks and says, "Back at you. Already you're a lot less prissy than the Julie Taylor I remember from high school."

"I was not prissy!"

"Well, the way Matt talked about you -- are you two ...?"

"No," Julie sighed. "We broke up during our sophomore year. Not surprising, really. I went to UT Austin and he went to UC Berkeley. He's at Cal-Tech now. "

Tim grinned at her. "Um ... want to get some coffee, and, y'know, get caught up? There's this little place across the street. They've got these awesome things called monster cookies, too."

His enthusiasm is infectious, and there's the whole ... nostalgia of seeing somebody from high school.

(God, she lusted after him back then. Hell, she still does.)

"Sure."

They're a few feet away when the soap lady shouts out, "Go Seahawks!"

Tim gives her a thumbs up over his shoulder.

~oo(0)oo~

Tim's almost all done with his gigantic everything-but-the-kitchen-sink Monster Cookie before Julie actually gets him to start talking about himself.

"Special Education?" She shakes her head in disbelief.

"Yeah. I amazed the hell out of myself with that one, too."

"Well, I mean, I know you went to Midwestern State to play football, but after that ... I didn't hear much."

He smiles. "It's not like we traveled in the same social circles, exactly. And it was quite a drive from Dillon, so it wasn't real easy for me to come home all that often, and Billy and I had kind of a falling out for a few years there. We're talking again -- it's all good now. In fact, in a few weeks," his voice tightens slightly "my nephew, Bo, is coming up to spend to spend most of June and through the Fourth of July with me. I'm really looking forward to seeing him."

"So, what are you doing? You a special ed teacher?"

He chokes on the last bite of his cookie. "You really have no idea?" he asks once he clears his throat with a swallow of coffee. "Julie, I'm a Seahawk." Under his breath he mutters, "Jesus, I've actually fallen off the Dillon gossip radar. That's damn near impossible."

"You. Play. Football?" Julie asks in a stupefied voice. Yeah, she _knows _ he's just told her that, but she's still processing.

He throws his head back and howls with laughter. "Yes," he finally wheezes.

"Oh."

"Well, I'm no Smash Williams, playing for the Colts, but I do okay. I got drafted in the 9th round four years ago."

"Still ..." _Oh God, what did he play?_ "Fullback?"

"Yep." He grins.

~oo(0)oo~

After the awkwardness passes, they spend time catching up and comparing notes. Tyra's living in Atlanta, working for Coke. Lyla's married to Jason and both of them are over on the east coast. Jason does something with ADA compliance and Lyla does interior design. Landry's still at UTA, working on a thesis about the history of Christian Speed Metal.

The sun's low in the sky and that means that she's going to be driving the two-lane twisty highways on her side of the Sound in the dark. It's past time for her to get going.

Tim asks for her phone number.

Knowing the kind of women he's probably got lining up to get in his bedroom, Julie thinks he's only being polite, but she goes ahead and hands him her card. "My direct line at work. I have voicemail, too. It's the best way to reach me. My neighborhood's still so backwoods that we have a party line, so I don't like to give that number out, unless I really have to."

His brow furrows. "A ... party line?"

"Yup. For $20 a month, I get to share a phone line with 15 other people -- it's too far out for reliable cell service."

"Wow ... that ... that's backwoods."

"Yeah, Mason county is still that rural."

"Is the hunting good?" His voice sounds eager.

Julie smiles at him. _Men are such dorks _. "How would I know?"

She waves at him and climbs the steps toward her car.

~oo(0)oo~

To her surprise, the phone rings a week and a half later, toward the end of a long Wednesday.

"Julie, it's Tim. Is  is this a good time?"

"I work for CPS. It's never a good time," Julie grumbles as she pushes aside the paperwork for her latest case. "What's up?"

"Um ... can you come over this weekend? The park around Lake Washington is really nice this time of year, or, I could come over if that's okay."

"It's been a really crappy week, so I don't feel like dealing with big city traffic. So, yeah, come on over. You'll have to bring your own beer, though. And a swimsuit. The lake's on the cold side right now, but it's just doable."

"Lake?"

"Yeah. Oh, I failed to mention that, didn't I? I live in a cabin on a small lake called Benson Lake. It's about a 20 minute drive outside of Shelton."

~oo(0)oo~

It's been building between them all day, and as soon as they walk in from the dock, his lips are on hers, and _ohgod _ it's everything Julie ever thought it would be, and then without any warning, Tim pushes her against the wall, ducks under her little terrycloth swim robe, jerks her bikini bottoms to the floor, flips her legs over his shoulders, and _stands up _ \-- and his mouth --

( _ohmygod _)

 IS. RIGHT.THERE.

"Been thinking about this all afternoon," she hears him mumble through the terrycloth when he breaks for air a minute later.

"Tim!" She puts a hand on his head and shoves it back where she needs it.

He doesn't say another word until she's done.

~oo(0)oo~

Fifteen minutes after the most glorious hour of her life, as they're lying in each other's arms on the carpet of the front room, recovering from "couldn't even make it to the bedroom" sex, Tim looks over at her and says, "You're planning to take the cottage cheese off the ceiling at some point, right?"

Which is probably the weirdest thing any guy she's ever been with has said to her afterwards. And considering some of the guys she slept with in Austin -- including Landry one very drunken night while she was on the rebound from Matt -- that's saying something.

"Um ... yeah, but considering that the roof doesn't leak, it's not really a priority right now. Why?"

He points.

Julie feels her face flame.

"Looks like you got an early start on it. Don't think you want to do all the rest with your hands, through."

~oo(0)oo~

**Epilogue **

Tim and Bo spent almost all of their month together up at the lake with Julie. She went to work, and they spent all day fishing, swimming, or hiking. Julie came home every night to dinner on the table. It was "man food", nothing fancy  God help her, she never wanted to see a tater-tot again in her life  but it _was _ incredibly sweet of them.

The two of them almost broke the kitchen table on the night that Bo had a sleep over with little old Sara Starr across the lake.

Their last weekend together was spent in a frantic drive down to Las Vegas where Julie married Tim after a three hour wait in line at the Little Chapel of the West. The honeymoon was dinner at McCormick and Schmicks. The wedding night was spent crashed out in a bed at a motel in Beatty. (There was some sort of massive convention in Vegas that weekend, and all of the hotels were booked solid. Not even Tim's status as a pro football player could produce a room.)

Years later, when someone interviewed her as part of a documentary about the now legendary 2006 Dillon Panther football season and asked her about that spur of the moment marriage, and how did Julie know that Tim was "the One"? She replied, "Well, when you miss your turn-off in Olympia, and he asks if you if you'd just like to keep driving to Las Vegas instead, because he wants to marry you, and you don't have anything at all packed, and you've got a motormouthed teenager in the back seat, and you drive 20 hours straight through, switching off every 500 miles so, so that the other person can catch a nap, and you step out of the car -- which was a Mustang GT so it's not like there was acres of space -- into the blazing heat of summer afternoon in Vegas, and you know that if you change your mind and say no, it means you can get on a plane and go straight home instead of having another 20 hour drive straight back the way you came with the same two dorks -- because you've got to be to work by 8am on Monday -- and you still _want _ to say yes? In fact, you actually want to say yes even more than when you started the trip?"

Pause.

"I'd say that's a sign."

**Author's Note:**

> Additional notes:
> 
> Leaving claw marks in the "cottage cheese" ... is (alas) not something I did. It did happen to a friend of mine.
> 
> Benson Lake is a real place in Mason County, Washington. The entire lake was on a party line until about 1990, and some households are still on it (typically the people who only use their lake house as a summer get away.) As of 2010, there is still very little cell phone, DSL, or cable out there. The cabin I put Julie in does exist, and is across the lake from Sara Starr, who is my great-aunt.
> 
> Read about Tim and Julie's [Wedded Bliss](http://archiveofourown.org/works/50031)


End file.
